#dc without them is such a dark place

[lady-corrine]

They are the loveliest couple ever I literally can't with them, the intimacy, the gentle nose boop, the closeness, the pure love and tenderness that radiates from these panels 🥹

[fandomfuntimem]

Dp x dc prompt

Redhood didn't like people who took advantage of children. Fucking hated them.

So when he heard of a new crime lord employing children in there area, he had to put a bullet between that fucker's eyes. Apperently, the guy ran the original gang out of town and set the kids off on petty crime. Stealing money. Food, clothes, in some cases, even drugs.

Redhood stood outside an abandoned building, gun at the ready. There was no security, no goons. Did this guy know he was coming? Is this a trap? Redhood shook off his worries. No matter. He's just gotta get this bastard before it could get any worse.

He crept through raftors and boxes. He listened for footsteps. Step step step. The footsteps were heavy and dragging, sluggish. According to eye witnesses, the crime lord tended to drag his feet, maybe limp even.

Redhood slid out of hiding, pressed his gun up to the back of the man's head, and-

It was a kid. The kid turned around, so irely calm. His long black air hung down, obscuring his face, but Redhood could clearly see the way his pale sickly skin sank into his bones. How his dull blue eyes seamed to gloss over and stare into his soul. Almost daring him to pull the trigger. Yet, despite the dark of the warehouse, he almost seemed to glow.

"So?" He asked.

"Wha- so what?" Redhood asked. He was shaking. He hasn't put the gun down.

"Are you going to pull the trigger or not? I mean, you've got a clear shot. I just ask you to clean up after. The kids don't need to see that," The teen slowly blinked at him. Redhood slowly lowered the gun. Just a gang of kids run rampant, yeah. That's what this is.

The kid hummed and began to walk off. Redhood couldn't really call it walking or even limping. It looked more like dragging a nearly dead leg. Now that he was close, he could see it. The dragging leg, the dead arm in a sling. The lichtenberg scars crawled up his face, reaching his eye, blinded and half shut. How did this kid run a whole gang out of town?

Red Hood followed him. The kid only gave his a brief glance before shrugging. Redhood followed him to the back of the warehouse, where a group of kids slept. Redhood recognised them, street kids. All either homeless or too scared to go home.

"They helped me," the kid whispered, "I got rid of those people because I hated the way they hurt the people around them, and when I fell sick, those kids stepped up to help. The least I can do is give them a place to stay."

"You fell sick? You weren't always like this?"

"No. I used to be a lot stronger, braver," The kid gave a heavy sigh before slowly lowering himself to the ground. Crossing his legs and resting his head on his hand, "Now I can barely move without aching, I feel like an old man trapped in a teenager's body."

Redhood glanced between him and the sleeping kids. He was helping them, housing them. In return, they were stealing food and medicine for their sick friend, and Rehood almost shot him.

"My name is Danny, by the way," The kid- Danny grumbled.

Redhood sighed and sat down next to him, "Nice to meet you, Danny. I'm Redhood."

[acid-ixx]

if you guys are interested, send in an ask or comment!

will anybody be willing to hear out neglected child reader who was another one of zeus's bastard children. you're out there chasing for your stepmother (hera's attention), whilst zeus just lets you run around without his care, clearly too wrapped up in his affairs. your other siblings aren't as good to you, too, thinking another half-deity isn't worth their time—

so you'd give up, pretty much choosing to bestow the mortal world with your presence instead; because if you can't be loved by your own family, then let yourself be worshipped by passionate mortals instead.

how about romancing telemachus? what if you both learn what it's like navigating through his godly favor with athena, and you with your own powers? what if you have odysseus and penelope be the actual parent-figures you always wanted? their overprotectiveness skyrockets every time you propose to being elsewhere in ithaca, to the point you forget that it's you who has the godly powers to oppose, but how could you when a darker side of them appears every time you allow yourself to be disrespected within their palace?

how about in another place? what are you to many of the great warriors, if not for a forgotten, yet mysterious and whimsical deity? why is your name muttered in all the regions? surely, with just how much you deny your god-like origins, but still manage to capture the hearts of hundreds of suitors, you'd gain quite the infamous name despite your closed-off attitude.

imagine enough attention was garnered on your presence, that that's what was needed for them to finally notice you? but you're not quite the same child who used to pull on their robes, or look at them as brightly as the sun— no, now you deny them of any of your love. your mother, hera, finally sees you and urges you to return to olympus away from the prying eyes of many suitors and back into the domain of safety. she calls you her baby, fuzzing over you even when you openly and spitefully try to rip her hands away from fixing your 'messy' robes. zeus isn't any better, now he calls you sweet names and pretend like he hadn't actively bashed on you for your weakness back when you were begging on his throne for just a sliver of attention? he wants you to sit in between his throne and hera's? you're significantly smaller than him, he's gigantic in nature, and it doesn't help that he treats you like you could be easily squashed by him (which is every damn right possible, and it's intimidating and makes you want to cry).

and there's the issue with the others, too. so many of them used to deny you in favor of focusing on their own domains. now apollo wants to carry you off in one of his chariots to ride off the skies with him while he plays his lyre to you? artemis wants to teach you the way of the hunt under the dark, gloomy skies you used to wish under for a moment of their time? aphrodite used to spitefully shut you out of her own doors, but now she invites you in her room to gossip and play pretend while she coos and braids your hair?

and all the other gods, now wanting to take you away from the underserving - as they say it - mortal realm? that the people who built sculptures of you, who held you more lovingly more than those you grew up with, aren't worthy of your divine presence?

what a joy to be a being looming between the lines of mortal and divine, right?

a/n: this concept is better off and more coherent in my head i swear. now i don't often diverge from my main fandom, but the similarities between this and the yan! batfam is quite hilarious to me that ngl i want to make a crossover of it. and yes, this is me coping with the stress of having to deal with the sudden influx of hate in the yan! dc community, so i'm taking a short break from it to focus on this.

[athenalvss]

TOMORROW? ( Bruce wayne! )

requested!

summary: On his first patrol as Robin, Dick can't keep his mouth shut and tries to set his mentor up with Detective Gordon's assistant, but there are things the boy doesn't know.

pairing: Bruce wayne x fem reader

open request - dc masterlist

The rain was barely felt from the roof of the building, but the lights of Gotham City flickered as if they were also afraid. You adjusted your coat, watching the Bat-signal projected onto the clouds. Gordon hadn't arrived yet, but you were there, as always, ready.

You didn't wait long for it to arrive.

The dark figure emerged from the edge of the building without a sound. Imposing, wrapped in his black cape, Batman strode toward you with a presence that commanded even without saying a word.

You'd been working for the police department for almost three years, Commissioner Gordon's right-hand man since he handpicked you for the position. You were no ordinary officer. Your reports were accurate, your deductions sharp, and, most importantly, you weren't intimidated by the city... or the shadows that loomed over it.

That was one of the reasons Batman started trusting you.

At first, there were only short, dry exchanges. He wasn't exactly the life of the party. But over time, the conversations lengthened. There was a silent understanding between you. Gordon had even started sending you in his place to some meetings with the Dark Knight, fully trusting your judgment.

And that night was one of those.

You didn't have to wait long until he appeared.

The dark figure emerged from the edge of the building without a sound. Imposing, wrapped in his black cape, Batman walked toward you with a presence that commanded even without saying a word.

"At time as always" you said with a slight smile, breaking the silence as if it were an old habit among you. "Gordon's stuck in a scene across town. He asked me to deliver this to you."

You handed him an envelope. It was open, revealing a deck of poker cards inside: two hearts, two Jacks, and a two, all stained with red ink.

Batman watched them closely. "Did this arrive today?"

"Earlier today, it was left at the station, addressed to you, and I dared to open it early."

"Cards, games. Could be Nigma or Two Face," he murmured, running his fingers over the ace.

"I thought the same thing. But there's no message, no threat. Just the letters."

I was about to make another observation when something landed with a thud on the roof of the parked patrol car. You instinctively turned, hand near your gun. But the one who appeared on top of the vehicle wasn't a threat. Or at least, not yet.

A teenager, or barely more. His black hair was tangled, his mask was worn, and his shiny suit stood in stark contrast to the darkness of Gotham City. He slid to the ground with an agility that reminded you of a circus acrobat.

"Am I interrupting something?! Are you receiving love letters at work?" he asked with a smile, his voice young and clear.

"And you are...?" you asked, eyebrows raised.

The boy stood proudly in front of you. "I'm Robin. First official night. Impressive, huh?"

"Robin," Batman chimed in with a small sigh. "She works with Gordon."

"Oh," Robin looked at you more closely. "Nice to meet you. I thought you'd be more... I don't know, old."

"Thanks... I think"

"one more question, I mean, ummm, are you single?"

Silence fell like a bomb. Batman turned slowly toward him, his jaw tense.

You raised an eyebrow, not moving. “Pardon?”

"I mean Br... Batman" Robin clarified, awkwardly jerking his thumb. "He's always alone, you're so cool, you know about crime... you two have chemistry. Just connecting the dots."

Batman turned to him very slowly. He said nothing. But that silence was worth a hundred warnings. "Robin," he finally murmured.

—What?! I'm just saying you two could make a great couple, you could solve crimes together all the time.

You crossed your arms and looked at the horizon, pretending to hold back a smile.

"Watch the perimeter, now," Batman ordered without raising his voice.

"Okay, okay, I'm going now," Robin spoke in a tone of resignation at the rejection of both adults to his great idea, and went jumping across the roofs.

"You didn't tell me he was so cute..." You turned to him, with a smile that was barely noticeable, but that shone in your eyes.

Batman barely turned his head, the shadow of a smile crossing his face, fleeting like everything that isn't made to last. "I wanted you to meet him for yourself."

In the distance, a small figure peeked out from behind a water tank. Robin. Peeking out with an expression somewhere between curiosity and confusion.

"He's watching us," you murmured, not moving.

"I know, I trained him" he replied calmly.

You adjusted your coat and spoke without looking at him: "Same place tomorrow for lunch?"

"If you make it in time this time," he replied, still maintaining his neutral tone, although his eyes shone a second brighter than usual.

"This time you won't have to wait for me"

"We'll see, I can call Alfred to pick you up."

Your smile barely grew, showing a hint of indignation. "See you tomorrow, bats, be careful please."

And you walked away into the shadows, letting him watch you as you went down the stairs to enter the station again.

[mmmilkweed]

how do you think the ancients and the beast would react to know that pv and smc had children

I WAS GOING TO MAKE A COMIC BUT ARG HAVE THE TEXT VERSION

For the Ancients... PV was *supposed* to tell them about Smilks pregnancy. He was GOING to tell them. But turns out Smilk gets a LOT worse, attitude wise, and basically.. All his time was spent on Smilk ( for the first 3 months it was just Smilk absolutely abusing his Pregnancy Status. Think: "I can't believe you won't let me do this, I'm carrying your child! " basically having PV wrapped around his pinkie. After that? The pregnancy actually hit him like a bus. Funs over, now he needed PV for real)

For the last 2 months of Smilks pregnancy, he basically didn't speak to any other ancient. All communication stopped. But that's not too far from the ordinary when it comes to PV, so no one questioned it.

Until he strode into a meeting with a babe swaddled to his chest.

First, the ancients were confused. Is he babysitting? Such a young cookie? Maybe. But then again her icing seemed oddly familiar to Vanilla's (minus the slight blue undertones.) So, of course, they asked who's she was. "Why, mine of course! This is Lemon Meringue Cookie." he'd say with a bright smile.

Then they'd be offended. No one is surprised PV got.. Busy.. With someone so soon, but not even introduce them to the mother? That was uncharacteristic. They didn't even know he was courting anyone! And so they voice their concerns. And then PV's face scrunches as he thinks. "Oh. I seemed to have forgot to send the letters. My apologies. Shadow Milk Cookie became a whole lot more.. Demanding, once he got pregnant."

Oh the silence that followed. All eyes on Pure Vanilla. They just stared at each other, PV shuffling in place, uncomfortable. At once, the table erupted. Hollyberry was the first to speak: "She's adorable!" Golden Cheese's face seemed both disgusted and impressed: "You bed the Beast of Deceit?!". Dark Cacao threw a hand in the air. "What were you thinking, Pure Vanilla Cookie?!"

Hollyberry was also the first to stand up and coo over the little Lemon nested against her father. She was already singing the little Cookie's praises. PV warned against touching her - not that he didn't trust his friends, it was just that Smilk took issue with it. Says she'd smell weird if they touched her. PV couldn't tell if it was a joke or not.

Golden Cheese joined her, but instead of praise she scrutinized the little bug. "She's going to have your nose, poor thing." though her tone was fond.

Dark Cacao remained seated, brows furrowed. He wasn't sure of this.. Decision PV made without consulting any of them. He was skeptical, worried PV was getting manipulated. Worried PV will fail to take action when time comes, simply because Smilk gave him a child. So he voiced his concerns. And PV listened, and nodded and agreed with his friend. He already knew - of course he did, spending so much time with Smilk - and he was prepared for the worst. From one father to another, they shared wordless acknowledgedment. "..She is rather adorable." DC said, also joining the circle around the babe.

I'll do the beasts some other time idk, it would be a lot less interesting though. Mostly just "Nah nah guys this is all a part of my plan dw. This has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that PV knows How To Get It On and its hard not to say yes to his breeding kink guys I swear. Anyway this is my second pregnancy and yes it's still part of my plan guys I swear"

[unadulteratedsoulsweets]

A DC X DP IDEA #44

Three Teens, Three Crowns, and a Whole Lot of Nope

Imagine dis…

I was just shuffling around my playlist when I heard that song from the animated movie El Dorado and it made me thinking, so here it goes…

…

DANNY’S POV

The moment my best friends bit the ghostly dust, the universe decided to hand us a set of crowns we didn’t ask for. Because obviously, nothing says “Congratulations on your tragic deaths!” like a full-time job in the afterlife.

Tucker, in a plot twist no one saw coming (except maybe Clockwork, because that guy cheats), turned out to be the reincarnation of some ancient Pharaoh. Not just any Pharaoh—oh no—he got the VIP pass straight to the top of the Egyptian pantheon, answering only to me, the so-called King of the Infinite Realms. Because if there's one thing I’ve learned, it's that my best friend is destined to be the world's first tech-savvy, WiFi-dependent god-king of the afterlife.

Sam, on the other hand, had always been a little too into nature, and I guess the universe finally decided to roll with it. When she synced up perfectly with Undergrowth’s power, the big walking salad declared her his heir, making her the literal Queen of Nature. So now, Sam basically has dominion over every plant in existence, which means I can never make an offhand comment about preferring artificial Christmas trees without getting a death glare.

And me? Well, since I yeeted Pariah Dark back into the sarcophagus where he belonged, the Infinite Realms figured I should be the one running the place. So, lucky me—I got promoted to Ghost King, a position that comes with all the responsibility and none of the training manual.

Now, you’d think that’s enough responsibility for a trio of teenagers who just wanted to survive high school. But no, Clockwork took one look at us, decided we sucked at ruling, and thought, Hey, let’s make this fun! So instead of, I don’t know, giving us an actual lesson in leadership, he chucked us into a completely different dimension (because, sure, why not?) and told us to start cults.

Yep. You heard that right. Cults.

No warning, no instructions, just a “figure it out” and a push into the deep end. One minute we’re in the Ghost Zone, the next we’re scattered across this weird universe like a really weird cosmic prank.

So now I’m stuck in Gotham, which, by the way, might be more haunted than the Ghost Zone itself. I have no idea where Sam and Tucker ended up, but if I know them, Tucker’s probably convinced a bunch of tech bros to worship him as some cyber-god, and Sam’s singlehandedly turning a park into her new throne. Meanwhile, I have to somehow convince people to follow me without sounding like a lunatic.

This is going to be fun. (Spoiler: It won’t be.)

…

SAM’S POV

Gotham reeked of smoke, oil, and decay. Beneath its gothic beauty was a suffocating lifelessness, an unnatural cage of steel and concrete. The city was a graveyard where nature had been paved over and left to rot in the shadows of towering skyscrapers. It was unacceptable. It was offensive. And Sam was going to change it.

She wasted no time. The moment her feet hit Gotham’s cracked pavement, she started planting seeds—both literally and metaphorically. It began with whispers. A small movement. A group that promised something different. Gotham had no shortage of lost souls—criminals, outcasts, the downtrodden looking for something beyond the city's endless cycle of crime and punishment. But Sam wasn’t offering power or chaos like every other Gotham lunatic. No, she offered something much rarer: sustainability.

Food. Shelter. Community.

It started with fresh produce, rare and valuable in Gotham’s urban wasteland. No one questioned where it came from, only that it was fresh, free of toxins, and worth more than a stack of stolen cash. The deal was simple—manual labor in exchange for nourishment. Gotham’s criminals, many of whom spent their lives getting stabbed, shot, or beaten in some turf war, found the idea shockingly reasonable. Hospitals ate through their earnings. Gang life was profitable until you bled out in an alley. But a place that provided food, healing, and protection? That was something different. That was better.

The movement grew. What began as a handful of desperate people looking for a way out became something bigger. The streets whispered of a new force rising, one that didn’t deal in violence or corruption but in roots—roots that burrowed deep, that refused to be ignored.

At first, the Batfamily dismissed it as background noise. In a city filled with psychopaths dressed as clowns, what was a little nature cult? But when Poison Ivy and Harley Quinn vanished—not in a grand escape, not in a fiery explosion, but simply faded into the movement—their indifference turned to concern.

When Ivy resurfaced, she wasn’t the same. The wild unpredictability had been tempered into something focused. Controlled. She still worshipped nature, but now she had a leader, someone she called High Priestess. And that leader wasn’t some ancient force of the Green. It wasn’t a metahuman, a scientist, or a villain. It was a teenager.

A black-haired, violet-eyed girl who stood in front of kneeling followers, leading ceremonies beneath the growing canopy of Gotham’s first true forest in centuries.

Sam had never been one for blind worship. She despised mindless devotion. But this wasn’t about faith—it was about purpose. The people who followed her weren’t zealots; they were survivors. They had seen what Gotham’s endless cycle of crime and violence had to offer, and they wanted out. She gave them that. She gave them a cause. And if it meant being called a cult leader, then fine. Whatever. Labels didn’t matter. Results did.

And Gotham was changing.

The city fought back, of course. The corruption, the crime families, even the Bat himself—none of them liked an unpredictable element in their precious, miserable ecosystem. But Sam had never been one to back down. Gotham was sick, diseased, rotting. She wasn’t here to burn it down like some power-hungry villain. She was here to fix it.

And if the Bats wanted to stop her, well—

Let them try.

…

TUCKER’S POV

Metropolis was beautiful. It was clean, it was bright, and it was bursting with technology. Skyscrapers gleamed under the sun, state-of-the-art AI patrolled the streets, and futuristic inventions were integrated into everyday life like it was no big deal. This was a city that worshiped innovation, where science and technology weren’t just tools but pillars of society.

Tucker should have been in heaven.

But he had a mission to complete before he could sit back and enjoy the wonders of Metropolis. Clockwork’s orders. And if the old ghost had taught him anything, it was that ignoring his cryptic guidance usually led to bad things. So, no indulging in the city’s top-tier tech just yet. He had a kingdom to build.

At first, Superman didn’t even notice him. That was fine. Tucker wasn’t looking to pick a fight with the world’s strongest hero. He moved in the background, setting up encrypted networks, hijacking digital footprints, and planting just enough static in the city’s airwaves to keep any unwanted super-snooping off his back. The occasional glitch in Superman’s super-hearing? That was Tucker, laying the groundwork.

But the real disruption came when people started vanishing.

Not just any people—tech specialists, programmers, engineers. The kind of minds corporations fought over, the ones Luthor’s company owned through shady contracts and blackmail. One by one, they disappeared from Metropolis, slipping through the cracks like digital ghosts.

The city was no stranger to missing persons. Metropolis saw its fair share of people vanishing into the underbelly of crime, alien invasions, or one of Lex Luthor’s ever-growing list of sinister schemes. But this? This was too precise, too targeted. Luthor’s R&D departments were bleeding talent at an alarming rate, and the usual suspects weren’t responsible.

The only common thread? The Code of Ra.

It started as an urban myth—a secretive group offering sanctuary to tech minds who had seen too many of their peers exploited, coerced, or “recruited” by the so-called forces of good and evil. They were promised a place where their work was valued, where they were free to create without fear of it being stolen, weaponized, or locked behind corporate greed.

And at the center of it all? Him.

Tucker hadn’t just built a cult—he’d built a kingdom. One where technology wasn’t a tool for war, where engineers and programmers weren’t disposable assets, where knowledge was sacred. He offered an intellectual utopia, a society where the greatest minds could work without limits. And the best part? They wanted to be there. There was no brainwashing, no coercion. The world had burned them too many times, and Tucker had simply given them an alternative.

And, okay, maybe he leaned into the whole Pharaoh thing a little. He was a reincarnated ruler, after all—might as well own it. Gold-trimmed robes, sleek futuristic stylings with ancient Egyptian aesthetics, and a throne room that looked like a cyberpunk temple. He’d always thought he’d look good in royal attire, and damn, was he right.

But his people didn’t follow him because of the theatrics. They followed because he gave them something no one else had—freedom.

Superman, unaccustomed to dealing with cults, found himself in unfamiliar territory. He had fought tyrants, warlords, and intergalactic conquerors, but a movement built on voluntary devotion? That wasn’t as simple as punching a bad guy. Normally, this was the kind of mess Batman or Wonder Woman would handle. But Diana was off-world, and Gotham had its own cult problem. That left the burden squarely on Superman’s shoulders.

And Tucker? Tucker was more than ready to enjoy the show.

…

DANNY’S POV

The desert sucked.

Like, really sucked.

If he ever made it out of this, he was going to personally petition the Ghost Zone to just delete the concept of sand from existence. Sand was evil. It got everywhere, it was hot, and it made him feel like a melting popsicle under a blowtorch.

His ice core hated him. His human half hated him. The sun was having the time of its life roasting him alive. And then—nothing.

When he woke up, things got weirder.

For one, he wasn’t dead. Which, honestly, was a pleasant surprise considering the whole “heatstroke and possible dehydration” situation. For another, he wasn’t lying in the sand anymore. Nope. Instead, he was inside a coffin.

Not the first time he’d woken up in one, but still, rude.

He sat up, blinking blearily, and was immediately met with dozens of kneeling figures in dark robes. No one screamed. No one attacked. They just...stared.

Which, honestly? Way creepier than ghost attacks.

The air smelled like flowers, incense, and something ancient, like he’d been dropped in the middle of an old temple. Around him were offerings—literal offerings—of gold, silver, and silk. And the people? They were whispering. Murmuring things he barely understood, eyes shining with what he could only describe as religious awe.

Which was never a good sign.

Danny had questions. A lot of questions. But the big one?

What the actual heck was going on?

It took some time—aka him sneaking around, eavesdropping, and pretending he had any idea what he was doing—but eventually, he figured it out.

These people? Every single one of them had died before. Not in the casual, “oops, tripped and fell” way, but in the full-on, flatline, bright light at the end of the tunnel way. And somehow, they’d come back. Some were resurrected, others survived things they shouldn’t have, but they all had one thing in common: they felt drawn to him.

Apparently, he was some kind of cosmic beacon for people who’d taken a one-way trip to the afterlife but forgot to stay there. To them, he wasn’t just some random ghost kid—he was the King. The embodiment of balance, life and death, chaos and order. The guy who got to decide whether people stayed dead.

And that was so not on his resume.

But did that stop people from kneeling at his feet, swearing loyalty, and building a cult around him? Nope.

Did he ask for it? Also nope.

And somehow, it just kept getting bigger. At first, it was just the devoted ghost-adjacent weirdos. Then mercenaries. Then, a group of assassins and a guy named Ra. Even Slade freaking Wilson showed up one day, standing ominously at the back like the world’s most intense chaperone.

Danny didn’t do cults. He wasn’t qualified for cults. He was barely qualified for high school.

But Clockwork had said he needed to establish one, and, well...mission accomplished?

Now, all he had to do was find Sam and Tucker, reunite with his spouses, and figure out how to explain to them that, uh...he might have accidentally become a god-king of the undead.

Yeah. They were never gonna let him live this down.

…

 PS: If someone out there wants to continue or make a fic about this you are free to do so, don’t forget to tag me though.

PPS: I tried a new type of writing. How is it?

[alexabowwow21]

THE REDBIRD OF THE GHOST KING

Danny Phantom x DC comics

Danny Fenton (Nightingale) x Tim Drake

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Danny is 20 (6'3, 190,5 cm) and Tim is 19 (5'7, 170,18 cm)

Danny gets a scholarship from the Martha Wayne Foundation after sending a picture of one of his inventions. He has money after defeating the ghost king Pariah Dark, but most of it is cursed, and takes time to undo everything. Uses the money for his apartment, necessities, and parts for projects.

GOTHAM UNIVERSITY - Aerospace

Tim Drake a year later after getting Bruce from the Time stream notices he is getting in the way of bonding. His insecurities also tell him no one loves or needs him in this family. ( Dick's and Steph's betrayal also hurts still) Better go. Enrolls himself in Gotham U.

GOTHAM UNIVERSITY - Business and then change to Forensics studies thanks to Danny.

One day in the school cafeteria a food fight broke out. Danny saves Tim by taking a pie into his face. Tim drags Danny to the bathroom. They locked eyes, love at first sight. ''Pretty boy''

They start hanging out. Tim tries to ask Danny out. Danny just kisses him under a big tree close to the campus. Started dating after that.

Danny joins the American football team Nighthawks after talking to Tim.

People be calling them Mister and Mrs Nightingale. Gets them all blushy.

Tim becomes friends with the cheer squad. Well, they adopted him after Danny became part of the football team. Tim is slowly getting better under the positive energy surrounding him.

Danny is the star quarterback after winning and proving his skills on the field.

They have been dating for 9 months, and Tim can't believe it is been so long without any setbacks from anyone. The other shoe drops.

'' I spoke too soon.''

Tim is getting more and more distant from the family. Red Robin starts to fly solo more often than usual. The batfam doesn't notice the rift between them, after all, Tim has always been independent. Until Scarecrow got out and everything popped like a balloon.

Tim starts to make plans to get Danny to move in with him after the chaos has settled down. He is Red Robin, Tim Drake, he can do anything! What if there is chaos, Danny is here and he isn't leaving. Also, Tim Nightingale does have a nice ring to it.

'' Wow, so many secrets that house caught on fire'' - Danny

'' What house?''- Tim asks confused

'' The house I saw blueprints off on your desk.'' - Danny

'' Not that house!!! That house was our family house, where Drake-Nightingale is supposed to happen after our honeymoon in haunted places of America.'' - Tim yells, running inside

Family house of Drake-Nightingale? Hold on Tim- Danny confused runs after Tim.

Hello! This is my first time writing a story. I hope you like it. This is actually not the full story, more like an idea I want to share with you people. I will start writing the story in full when I have time.

The title color was supposed to be yellow to symbolize a mix of both Tim's and Danny's colors together, but it doesn't have it.

Thanks and I hope you like and enjoy the text.

[jinjeriffic]

Dan Phantom vs. the Justice League

Most DCxDP fanworks gloss over how Dark Danny/Phantom kills the JL, or argue that TUE wouldn't play out the same way in the DC universe, since there are tons of superheroes and some would have a way of beating Dan. So let us dig into this with a shovel!

I would like to point out that we have seen plenty of apocalyptic/dark futures in DC. Even without Dan, that superhero multiverse is constantly teetering on the knife's edge of catastrophe! It feels like every couple of months someone has to stop the end of the world. Dan is just one more possible future to avert.

Dan is not a mindless monster, he is capable of planning, subterfuge and working with/coercing others to work with him (i.e. Fright Knight). He has both Danny and Vlad's memories, so in a crossover setting there is no way he wouldn't know about the public superheroes and villains at least.

Speaking of, DC is obviously crawling with supervillains and world destroying entities. Nobody said Dan had to conquer the world alone! I can totally see him working with and manipulating other villains to achieve his goals, only to stab them in the back later (ho-ho).

Dan's powers of invisibility, intangibility, duplication, overshadowing etc. make him an ideal candidate for infiltration, espionage and sabotage. Unless a person or location is specifically shielded against ghosts with tech or magic, he can get in and out without anybody noticing. Sure, someone like Batman probably had his home proofed against supernatural attacks, but surely not most of them! I envision him taking down Earth's heroes by extensively spying on them first.

Consider: Dan causes a major disaster that requires superhero intervention (runaway train, high-rise fire, sinking oil tanker etc.) and waits for someone to show up. When they do, Dan uses his duplicates to follow the hero(es) home/to work etc. Learn their identity, their weaknesses, their loved ones etc.

Dan could strategically leak hero identities to villains with a grudge who have no problem going after their civilian lives. This could also act as a smoke screen so the heroes don't immediately realize someone is targeting all of them.

Overshadow a loved one and use them to kill the hero - "Oh, Hero X got in an argument with their SO and their SO shot them in a fit of passion? Their SO claims having blacked out just before they picked up the gun? Trauma will do that."

Use intangibility to plant bombs, nerve gas, radioactive materials, etc. in the homes of various heroes and set them off in a coordinated strike.

Probably the biggest threat to Dan would be magic based heroes or supernatural entities (Captain Marvel, Doctor Fate, the JLD, etc.). They would also be the most likely to have countermeasures in place against ghosts, or a way to detect him. But they're also mostly suited for fighting the supernatural. I admittedly don't know enough about a lot of these characters - would say, Zatanna think to have a shield in place against sudden sniper attacks? Dan could steal some money and hire Deathstroke/Deadshot etc to blow their head off when they're out in the open.

Have I mentioned what a nightmare Dan would be in terms of security? I can totally see him say, breaking into the CDC and unleashing smallpox, ebola and any number of virulent diseases on the world. Cause some nuclear meltdowns. Knock down a dam. Steal some highly radioactive isotopes! Would the magic heroes be protected against something that can give you a lethal dose of radiation within minutes?

What I'm saying is, a clever and ruthless villain like Dan could unleash enough chaos with his OP powerset to overwhelm the heroes and then pick a lot of them off. He's pretty much the definition of someone who just wants to see the world burn!

[ew-selfish-art]

Dp x Dc AU: It’s not the usual suspects trying to summon the undead this time, and it’s proving to be a massive headache for John Constantine. They seem...Competent. 

When John sniffed out a new plot to summon a ghost, he kind of laughed it off. Ghosts were not more than shades of the people/creatures they used to be, without all the right resources and enough buy in from the greater spirits of the Infinite Realms, most entities that came thought might scare some kids at a slumber party but that was at most. Plus, kids were scary resilient these days thanks to the internet, so really, John’s not worried. 

Then he hears about the gathering of artifacts and he has to care a little more. He learns that one Jasmine Fenton is involved and he’s... Surprised. She’s got a public record of dismissing her parent’s inventions and causing stirs at supernatural conventions (not to mention a great reputation as a research focused psychologist). Jasmine’s credit cards report a great deal of cash (refunded to her account by an unknown off-shore account) being taken out and her location is right next to the last place anyone could find a shard of the Crown. 

Yeah, that Crown. The Infinite, ancient blessed and deity cursed one. John had meant to get around to investigating if the shard of obsidian (fire forged) was legit, so he begins to set his sights on Jasmine for a ‘chat’. 

Then Sam Manson, a scary ass Heiress, pulls up in a limousine and all but kidnaps him and dumps him outside city limits. She tells him that he’s been cursed for the next 48 hours to stay out of their city- If he comes close, any plant will identify him in a heartbeat and come to life to kill him. (Fun fact: there are a goddamn lot of plants surrounding this stupid town, even the dandelions are forging knives to kill him.)

THEN worse, Red Robin gets on his ass about cybersecurity of all things. Turns out another player, identified by the moniker TooFineTooFurious has been tracking John’s phone and has been rummaging around official JLD documents- How was John supposed to know that keeping his passwords on the notes app could be hackable? Red Robin declares him incompetent and John can only sigh, crush his phone and move on. 

That all leads him to the summoning portal in front of him in this weird ghost themed high school gymnasium. It’s far too competent. It gives him goosebumps even before he can read out that they’re summoning the King of the Infinite Realms himself. John clicks the panic alarm on his JL communicator before engaging with the Trio before him. 

They’re not wearing any capes, no candles are lit, but this is the scariest cult he’s ever seen. Jasmine Fenton, ghost denier, Sam Manson, Heiress and Plant Witch (?), Some other dude with a beret and fucking DRONES (he considers this might be the man who hacked him). John pleads with them, they don’t know what they’re trying to do. Pariah Dark will kill them all, eat their entire planet for breakfast!! Everyone rolls their eyerolls at him, and he’s taken aback by their nonchalance. 

Plant guards grab him and a drone has a laser sight on his forehead. He fights but is subdued- They’re almost done chanting when Superman, Green Lantern, Red Robin and Cyborg all appear. Despite their disruption- the chanting ends with the green illumination of the circle. Despair fills the air. 

And then- Poof- a groaning young man appears. 

“Dudes you have no idea how unhelpful the Infi-map is sometimes. I was lost for like weeks and CW was being such a bitch ab- What. Wait, who are all- Holy shit did you guys summon the Justice League?” The Ghost King in full Regalia stared back at them in questioning concern. The three summoners start bitching  at the monarch and John... isn’t sure if this is going to be an interdimensional incident yet. 

[captainkirkk]

✩ MONTHLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

The fics I’ve read and enjoyed for the month of May. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes. Please look at tags and warnings on ao3 before reading.

Fandoms included this month:

DC (Batman)

The Goblin Emperor

Star Wars Prequels/ Clone Wars

Conclave (2024)

Stranger Things

DC

beep beep!! by CreamofTomatoSoup

There’s not really a point in owning a car, especially with the cost of insurance. With the threat of student debt looming overhead like a cloud, Bernard can’t afford to buy a car without help, and there’s no way he’ll ever ask Tim. So Bernard doesn’t really drive. He’s happy to let his weirdly specific driving skills get swept under the rug, because the thing he has with Tim still feels delicate and new, and he doesn’t want to ruin it by bringing up that his uncle was in a gang and hey, he just happened to teach Bernard how to drive. Bernard wants to avoid any kind of conversation around crime in Gotham, actually. Especially after what happened in high school. It’s not like he’s ever going to need to drive a getaway car, anyway. As far as Bernard is concerned, it’ll never come up.

Bernard learned to drive from his henchman uncle. The last place he expects to use this skill is at a dinner with his boyfriend's family.

The Goblin Emperor

moderation by astardanced

“Aha!” Csethiro sat up, displacing him somewhat abruptly. “Thou dost admit it, then!” “Admit what?” said Maia bewilderedly, trying to sit up— “That ‘tis my job to hate people on thy behalf,” said Csethiro magnificently, with a rather intense look in her eye that Maia did not entirely trust, even if he did rather like it. “I did not… quite say that…” “Let me deal with Mer Abrevar, husband,” said Csethiro— in a tone she obviously thought was measured, because she looked proud of herself. It was not measured. It was immense.

The 'starsabovethemarshes' Incident by peredain

The following is as close to the full story as I can recover of the Tumblr blog starsabovethemarshes, or, as most people will know it, "that one time someone on Tumblr tried to impersonate Edrehasivar VII".

There isn't much information about the blog still available on the internet, but by compiling screenshots, doing some of my own internet sleuthing, and reaching out to people who were following the blog when it was active, I've been able to construct a general story of what went down.

The Architects by jouissant

In the twentieth year of Edrehasivar VII’s reign, Lord Berenar announced his retirement as Lord Chancellor, and Maia Drazhar fell into a private crisis.

Clone Wars

Ties That Bind by Imagined

Commander Cody cleared his throat subtly. “Erm, may I ask, sir… how old is he?” “I’m nine,” Anakin said. “But really, I promise I won’t be in the way while you fight, Master Obi-Wan. Maybe I can help in a starfighter!” “Sir,” Commander Cody said. He sounded strangled.

Or: The Clone Wars start a week after Qui-Gon dies and Anakin becomes Obi-Wan's Padawan. Burdened with doubts, new responsibilities, and a former slave child to take care of, a twenty-year-old Obi-Wan finds himself adopted by an army of clones. The clones take care of their own, after all—but then again, so does Obi-Wan.

The war is over (we are beginning) by K_R_Closson

The Jedi have been slaughtered, Anakin has turned dark side, and Obi-Wan is being hunted by his former apprentice. When Yoda tells him he needs to fake his death, Obi-Wan agrees. It isn't as though this is new to him. Obi-Wan, Cody, and Rex are put into a deep Force sleep, and Yoda promises to wake them when the galaxy needs them again.

But it isn't Yoda who wakes them. It's a small voice, calling out to a Jedi for help. Obi-Wan wakes up to a quiet head, both Yoda and Anakin are dead. And then he learns thirty years have passed while he's been asleep. With the Jedi Order gone, with Mandalore glassed, with a Empire that has risen and fallen, Obi-Wan, Cody, and Rex must decide what their place is in this new galaxy.

But first, there is a child who needs help. The only clue Obi-Wan has is a Mandalorian in shiny beskar'gam. If they can find one, they can find the other.

Hands Off by Icannotthinkofapenname

Anakin was really enjoying his first few months at the temple. It was safe and peaceful, and all the jedi he'd met were really nice!

And then Quinlan Vos slapped his master's ass.

Iviin’hiibi te Tuur by whitchry9

Part 3 of Iviin’hiibi te Tuur

Obi Wan has never resented the seizures he's experienced, not exactly, but he wasn't particularly fond of them either.

(And then they save the galaxy.)

squeeze it apart, that’s fine by Anonymous

Ventress was right when she said that General Kenobi would never assume Cody’s position beneath her malevolent hands, but her reasoning had been wrong. Cody would never give the General the opportunity to take his place. One of the few comforts that he had allowed himself - the true vow he had permitted himself to make - was that he would never outlive his Jedi.

He’d endure a thousand tortures and a thousand deaths before he subjected himself to a galaxy without General Kenobi in it.

“You’re going to hurt him, Commander Cody,” Ventress whispered, and Cody startled at the sound of his name on her tongue. He did not realise that she even knew it. “I want to pity you. Martyring yourself for a Jedi who wouldn’t take your place. For a Jedi who, once you are done with him, will wish for nothing more than your death.”

Or: Obi-Wan and the 212th are held hostage by Ventress, who contrives of a unique way to torment the Jedi General by pitting his own biology against him. Locked in a cell with his alpha Commander, Obi-Wan Kenobi has to find an escape before his heat takes control.

Do You Want To Meet All My Monsters? by c_m_li (+ podfic)

Part 1 of Dark Star

Obi-Wan Kenobi has been hiding his species all his life. When he is forced to disclose that he isn't even Near-Human, he doesn't get the reaction from the Clone Troopers that he was expecting.

violence in reconstruction by Serie11

“Do you know what I think?” Cody asks, and doesn’t wait for Obi-Wan to reply. “I think that you haven’t slept in forty hours. I think you’ve been using too many stims, even though Bones tries to limit your access to them. I think that you’re currently drunk. I think,” he says, louder, over the top of Obi-Wan’s sound of protest. “That you’re self aware enough to be thinking about the darkness in the Force, and that you’re scared of going too far into it, because you’re good at waging war. You’re very good at it, and you hate that about yourself.”

Obi-Wan makes a small, broken noise, and Cody closes his eyes as if that will stop him from hearing it.

Conclave

life on earth could be heaven by ShowMeAHero

Pope Innocent XIV and Cardinal Thomas Lawrence share a unique relationship.

Vincent and Thomas share something even greater.

or: vincent and thomas fall in love, find their way, and are witnessed by the world in doing so.

this is hungry work by ShowMeAHero

“I know this is difficult. I know you do not like this. But you are starving yourself, Thomas, and God would not see you starved. I would not see you starved.”

Thomas wonders what it says about him that one of those means more than the other— and what it means that this does not bother him as it should, this blasphemous thought, this sacrilegious reprioritization.

“I do not wish to argue with you, my dear Vincent,” Thomas says, voice quiet. “Your concern is kind, but— I am afraid this is only how I am.”

Vincent squeezes his hands.

“You are not your punishments,” Vincent tells him, firm, warm, insistent. “You are not your denial. You are not your sacrifice, Thomas, nor your hunger. You are not your starvation.” His hands shake Thomas’s, a rattle to keep his attention. “You are Thomas. You are human, and you are starving, and you should not be.”

Stranger Things

True Colors by brightloveee

Eddie expects Steve Harrington, who he’s started hooking up with on the down-low, to be a douchey, spoiled jerk. So he pre-empts him. Only, Steve isn’t a jerk. But guess who is.

OR 5 Times Eddie is a Shitty Boyfriend and 5 Times He Gets Better

[jellyfishsthings]

Endless Conversations at 3 A.M.

navigation , dc navigation

Summary: Tim yearning for a nerdy girl who constantly talks about her new books or new science inventions and they constantly talk for hours about stuff while snacking in the kitchen, falling asleep at 5 in the morning 

The story takes place in a boarding school

requests are open

dividers by @cafekitsune 

Tim Drake didn’t need anyone to tell him he was smart. He knew it. It was in the way he could analyze the most obscure pieces of data in a split second, how he could solve crimes before anyone had a chance to even start thinking about them. His mind was like a finely tuned machine, a network of connections firing off constantly. It was something he’d grown up with—his mind working faster than anyone could keep up with. He wasn’t used to distractions, not of the kind that made his chest ache like this. He had his routine. Work. Training. Late-night study sessions. A mind like his, sharp and constantly processing, didn’t have the time for anything that could derail it.

And then there was you.

Something different about you.

It started innocently enough, as most things did. You were the quiet girl who sat in the corner of the library, your nose buried in books Tim had never heard of, your fingers scribbling through the margins like you were finding answers nobody else could. You’d walk past him in the halls, brief glances exchanged. Nothing special. But then one afternoon, it happened. He’d found himself in the middle of one of those impossibly late-night snack sessions in the kitchen, eyes barely open as he rummaged for something to keep him awake long enough to finish his latest round of equations.

He was in the kitchen. Late night. Gotham asleep, with only the faintest hum of the city stretching into the silence of the manor. Tim had a habit of coming down to the kitchen late, especially when his mind was racing with some unsolved puzzle, some unsent email, some unanswered question. He often wandered into the kitchen without thinking, grabbed a snack, and stared into the night—letting the dark and quiet cool his thoughts.

You’d walked in, all energy and calm, with a pile of half-open notebooks tucked under your arm. A girl who, to Tim, was an enigma wrapped in thoughts too complicated for anyone but herself to understand. You looked at him, that half-smile you always wore curling your lips.

"Is it just me, or does the kitchen at 2 A.M. always feel like a secret club?"

Tim had almost dropped the spoon he’d been holding, unsure if he was supposed to feel embarrassed or if he should have said something cooler in response. "Guess we’re the only ones left awake," was all he could muster, his words just a little too casual, as if he hadn’t noticed how breathtakingly out of place you were in the middle of his late-night routine.

You didn’t seem to mind. You sat across from him, dropping your notebooks on the table like they were nothing. And in the next few hours, he learned more about you than he could have ever expected.

“Tim?” You’d looked up, catching him mid-step. “Can you help me with this?”

Tim blinked. You were the smart girl at school—one who was always absorbed in a book, always two steps ahead. But this? This wasn’t something he could solve in a blink. He knew that much.

“What is it?” he asked, leaning over, his curiosity piqued.

You pointed to an equation, half-finished, a series of symbols and numbers that had Tim doing a double-take. He’d never seen anything quite like it before.

“That’s—” he started, feeling the familiar rush of his brain kicking into overdrive. The puzzle was fascinating, but it was also wildly complex. Not even Tim Drake, with his natural intelligence and years of experience solving some of Gotham’s most dangerous riddles, could immediately decipher it.

“What are you working on?” he asked, his voice careful.

You didn’t seem to notice the way his mind was already trying to dissect it. Instead, you simply launched into an explanation, as casual as if you were talking about the weather.

“Just a little something on applied mathematics for motion systems. The kind of calculations for things like weather balloons, or even drones. It's about optimization—how to minimize error in the systems under the influence of wind currents.”

Tim raised an eyebrow. “You lost me at drones.”

You laughed. “I tend to do that. I’ll break it down for you—it's about minimizing trajectory error when accounting for random variables. A lot of variables, really. Wind, angle of release, external disturbances.”

Tim was smart enough to keep up with you. He was more than capable of handling advanced physics, calculus, and cryptography. But hearing it from you, seeing the way you lit up when you talked about it, made him feel like he was stepping into a world he hadn’t yet explored. It was almost like watching someone conjure magic from thin air, weaving a spell with nothing but numbers and formulas.

“So…” Tim said slowly, trying to catch up, “It’s like predicting the movement of a batarang?”

Your smile was so wide it lit up the kitchen, and Tim’s heart beat just a little faster than usual. He hated how it was so easy for you to distract him, even when his brain was running at full speed.

“Exactly,” you said, leaning closer, eyes sparkling. “But with drones, the error margins are a lot more unpredictable. It’s fascinating because if you tweak the variables just slightly, you can make it so the drone compensates for the wind before it even feels it.”

Tim let that sink in for a moment, then nodded, impressed. He had a sharp mind, no doubt about it, but hearing you talk about these things—he felt like an amateur again. Like there were so many layers of the world that he hadn’t even begun to peel back. And yet, you made it sound so... easy. It was that which made his chest tighten.

You were in a world of your own, and somehow, it felt like he wasn’t invited. Like he wasn’t quite smart enough for you. And that thought gnawed at him, because, if there was one thing Tim Drake hated, it was feeling like he wasn’t enough.

The next hour passed in a blur. You’d pulled out books Tim could barely pronounce the names of, showing him your newest discoveries. Some were about math, others about biology, and a few were a mix of historical facts and theories Tim couldn’t even wrap his brain around.

By the time dawn was breaking, the kitchen light flickering in time with your laughs and animated explanations, Tim felt a gnawing ache in his chest that he couldn’t shake. He’d lost track of time. You’d lost track of time. Your eyes sparkled as you spoke, your hand absently playing with your pencil, and Tim found himself simply... listening.

When the clock struck 5 A.M., and you stood up to leave, exhausted yet satisfied, it hit him—this wasn’t just an intellectual curiosity. This wasn’t about math equations or theories that defied logic. It was about you. And him. And the way you made him feel like the world was full of wonder again.

The weeks that followed felt like an endless cycle of late-night sessions in the kitchen, your voice filling the silence like some endless tide. You would talk about everything—science, history, psychology—your brain a repository of fascinating facts that made Tim’s own mental library feel incomplete.

He tried his best to keep up, but more often than not, he’d be left staring at you, trying to catch his breath while your words rushed past him, faster than his mind could follow.

One night, you’d been talking for hours about string theory, gesturing wildly with your hands as if the entire universe were contained in those movements. Tim couldn’t help but stare at the way your fingers moved, the way you became so engrossed in the theories, as if they were pieces of a puzzle only you could see.

“…and what’s even crazier,” you said, dropping another scientific bombshell, “is that if string theory is true, then theoretically, every fundamental particle in the universe is just a manifestation of these tiny vibrating strings. It’s mind-blowing, don’t you think?”

Tim swallowed hard, realizing he had absolutely no idea what you were talking about. He smiled awkwardly, trying to mask his confusion. “Yeah, totally. Just... uh, yeah. That’s... mind-blowing.”

You grinned at him. “You look lost. Want me to explain it again?”

And that’s when it hit him. He wasn’t just out of his depth intellectually—he was out of his depth emotionally, too. He liked you. No, he really liked you. But it wasn’t just your intelligence. It was how you made the world feel like a bigger place than it actually was. You weren’t just talking to him—you were showing him a whole new universe, and Tim couldn’t help but be entranced by that.

You never asked for him to be there. You never seemed to expect him to show up with his tired eyes and his quiet smile. But you didn’t mind when he did, and that’s what made it feel like some unspoken bond.

"Did you ever wonder," you asked one night, halfway through a book about quantum mechanics, "if the universe could actually be a series of dimensions stacked on top of each other, like a never-ending accordion? Like... time could be folded in on itself, and we wouldn’t even know?"

Tim paused, his spoon halfway to his mouth. “Yeah. Sometimes. But... the whole idea of alternate realities always trips me up. Like, how would we ever even know they exist?”

"Exactly!" You waved your hands as if the answer was just around the corner. "It’s this weird thing about perception and reality. What if, in another reality, we're having this exact conversation, but everything’s slightly different? Like, you’re left-handed, or I’m talking about the different types of black holes instead of quantum stuff?"

Tim tried to keep up, but the words you were saying were floating just beyond his reach. He didn’t care. He just wanted to listen.

“I think,” he said, finding his voice again after a beat, “that it’s kind of beautiful. The idea that everything’s connected, but also... so separate. So, so separate, in a way that makes everything more precious.”

Your eyes met his, sharp and knowing, and for a moment, it felt like the universe had paused.

"Yeah," you whispered. "I think so too."

The next few weeks passed in a haze of equations, theories, and late-night talks. Tim found himself looking forward to those kitchen sessions more than he cared to admit. It wasn’t just that you challenged him mentally—it was that you made him feel something he wasn’t used to feeling: a longing for something more.

You would talk about books, or inventions you were working on, or your plans for the future. Tim would listen, sometimes offering his own insights, sometimes just letting the sound of your voice fill the empty space between them. And, more often than not, he found himself staring at you, trying to memorize the way your eyes would sparkle when you were passionate, how you made even the most abstract concepts sound like something real, something worth fighting for.

But it wasn’t until one particularly late night—around 4 A.M., with the two of you sitting in the kitchen, surrounded by the remnants of half-empty mugs and snack wrappers—that Tim realized just how deep his feelings for you had grown.

“You’re not tired yet?” he asked, watching as you scribbled another complicated equation on the back of a napkin.

“Not yet. I’m on a roll,” you said, your voice bright, the familiar fire in your eyes still burning strong. “Do you ever get like that? Like you’re so focused on something, you don’t even notice how much time passes?”

Tim paused for a moment, his eyes lingering on you, not just because of how brilliant you were, but because there was something about you that made him feel seen. "Yeah. I think I do," he said softly.

The silence stretched out between you two, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was a quiet understanding, a space where you both were just… there. Tim realized, in that moment, that he didn’t need to keep up with you all the time. He didn’t need to understand everything you said. He just needed to be in the same room as you, listening. Just listening.

And maybe, that was enough.

But the truth was: Tim was falling for you. Hard.

It wasn’t just about the way you made complicated things sound simple or how you made the most mundane theories seem like pieces of art. It wasn’t just your kindness or your intelligence or the way you always made him feel like there was no one else more important in the world than him.

It was the way you talked. The way your eyes lit up with excitement, your hands gesturing wildly, your mind constantly racing with thoughts too big for the world around you to keep up with. Tim realized that, in those moments, he didn’t feel like he was just keeping pace with your words—he was trying to keep up with your soul.

One night, as you debated whether or not time travel was theoretically possible through a wormhole, Tim’s heart nearly cracked under the weight of his emotions. His breath caught, and he almost blurted out something reckless. Something about how he loved the way your mind worked, how it felt like he was watching a comet streak across the sky every time you spoke.

But all he said was, “You’re incredible, you know that?”

You blinked, surprised by the sincerity in his voice, but then smiled softly. “Yeah. I get that sometimes. Just... never thought I’d hear it from you.”

Tim felt his pulse spike. His voice was tight. “Why?”

You leaned back, tucking your legs under yourself. “Because you’re always so... distant. You’re quiet, Tim. You think in silence. I thought that’s how you wanted the world to stay.”

He couldn’t think of a way to respond that didn’t sound like an admission of how much he cared. So he just settled for a small smile, one that tugged at his lips but didn’t quite make it to his eyes.

The truth was, he had never been good at showing affection. But with you? With you, it didn’t matter. You already understood the language of his silences.

It was a month later, during another conversation that stretched far past 3 A.M., when you finally asked him, “Tim, do you ever just get tired of all the noise in your head? The pressure, the constant thinking?”

Tim stared at the empty coffee cup in front of him, his chest heavy. It was one of those moments where he wished he could express what he was feeling. He wished he could make you understand just how much it meant that he could sit here, in this moment, in this quiet space with you, and just... breathe. No pressure. No questions. No expectations. Just... you.

But he didn’t say any of that. Instead, he simply answered, “Yeah. I do. But sometimes... it’s nice to be with someone who makes the world quieter.”

So Tim found himself opening up in ways he hadn’t expected. He no longer felt the need to pretend that he could keep up with you every step of the way. Instead, he let himself just be present in the moment, just enjoying your company and letting your words guide him through this strange, fascinating world you had built.

One night, as you sat there, deep in conversation about the possibility of life on other planets, Tim realized that maybe it wasn’t the equations that fascinated him. Maybe it was you. Your mind, your passion, your voice. You had this way of making everything seem possible, of opening doors to worlds Tim hadn’t even dreamed of.

And in that moment, it felt like you understood, even without the words. You smiled, a soft, knowing smile. And for the first time, Tim felt like maybe, just maybe, he didn’t need to understand everything to know how he felt.

And in that moment, Tim realized something else: he wasn’t just falling for you. He was already in love with you.

[demon-at-peace]

DC + DP

Danny was dead, but he wasn't and it felt wrong. It made him feel out of place in life, his family smiled at him. They loved him, and Danny knew, he knew if they ever found out his secret they'd hate him.

But they might not and he hated that more, he hated the fact that if he told them the truth it might not change anything. That maybe just maybe they'd love him the same. He didn't think they would though, he was pretty sure they'd hate him. And if they didn't...

Well they wouldn't accept him, it would be terse smiles, while they pretended it wasn't true. While they preteneded he was the same as ever.

So he kept his silence, and instead he was the one with a wooden smile pretending to be fine. pretending they'd accept him if he told them the truth.

Things had changed, they no longer hunted Phantom, no longer spat their hatred of ghosts. They'd been proven wrong after he'd taken the throne. Still he knew they didn't like ghosts.

They still made comments, about their lack of love, lack of humanity. How they weren't sapient, or some other nonsense. So he smiled, and pretended everything was fine. It wasn't but he'd been pretending for years at this point.

He told them before college, he knew it was cowardly, telling them before he left, so he could run, and not return. So he could escape. They didn't scream, just stared at him with confusion, with loss. Danny was counting down the days till he could get out.

They didn't reject him, they smiled, and laughed but everything was different. Except him, he was the same, he'd just stopped lying. He left days after with bags he'd packed days ago and a goodbye that was rushed.

Then he was gone, moving into a dorm that stank like mold, a community kitchen that didn't have the right utensils, and with showers far too small. It was a freedom of sorts.

He met his roommate, Jason was tall, gruff, the classic football jock, who also happened to be a lititure nerd, gods he was like Mr. Lancers Child. swearing on pride and prejudice and all. it was honestly so cute.

Right, did Danny mention he was hot, and smart, and like really hot? Yeah, well he was, and Danny may be smitten? Because he baked for him! Baked! Cookies tarts pies, he'd wake up and it would be on their shoddy dorm table. Or he'd get gifts, he was so sweet.

Danny wasn't to be outdone. He’d fix Jason’s gear, guns and coms. Making whatever Jason needed. Be it fixing his laptop so he could finish his English essay or super villain weapons.

The only problem was the bats. Ugh they kept interfering, lecturing him about helping crime bosses and other nonsense. Like what did they expect him to do, let his boyfriend go out there without the best stuff? hell no.

He didn't tell Jason, but they kept finding his labs, like they were in the sewers, no one went in the sewers! why were they finding him? He huffed as he lugged the gear, he had to move again! the light one, shiny one? tall guy with curly hair? And the yellow uniform? yeah Danny couldn't remember his name but he'd found his base again!

He sighed grumpily, Grundy waved to him as he passed and Danny smiled at his fellow undead. This time he thought he lay a trap, for the bats. He huffed before grining, damn them and their lectures, if he trapped them they'd think better than to mess with him!

Due to his plan it took him a few extra hours to set up his lab, and putting glow in the dark stars on the ceiling but come on those were a must.

It took almost two weeks before the Bats found him, predictable they fell right into his trap, and right into the realms. Jason would be so proud of him, he'd dealt with them, besides he could release them whenever so they weren't dead or something! Not that being dead was bad, he was dead and he thought it was rather comfortable.

He portaled led to the apartment, Jason greeted him with a wave, and Danny grinned. "Hi!" he greeted cheerily.

Jason looked at him dead pan. "What did you do Danny?" he asked deadpan.

Danny pouted. "Nothing," he whined dramatically.

"Darling please just tell me?" Jason offers and Danny folds at the pet name.

"Fine, well you know how the bats keep finding my labs!" Danny grimaces at the thought. "Well I trapped them!"

"Where?" Jason asks though he's unable to hide a smile.

"The realms duh!" Danny grins.

"Danny, normal humans can't survive in the realms, let them out!" Jason explains still with a slight smile on his face.

"But!" Danny protests.

"No, Danny!" Jason scolds.

"Fine," with a snap of Danny's finger two bats are sent tumbling onto the floor, Danny startles, "Shit your mask!" But it's to late.

"Little wing?" Nightwing croaks.

---

I'm sorry, anyhow been a while since I did this ship, tbh I'm more into Dan/Jason right now but dead on main is a classic. Also I'm a sucker for the nickname Darling, or love, ect.

Bye!

[bodybaggage]

Oh, It’s On!

DP X DC

Ensue the prank war…

---

It all started with a simple question posed by Dick as he lounged on the Batcave’s most uncomfortable piece of furniture, which he affectionately called "the Bat-Stone."

“So, has anyone actually tested the limits of Danny’s ghost powers?”

Tim looked up from his laptop, always the first to take a bait. “You mean, besides the constant intangible phase he does to avoid Damian’s batarangs?”

Stephanie, who was tending to her bo-staff but was actually poking Cass with the end of it—grinned. “I’m in. If nothing else, we’ll get some decent entertainment. Better than watching Bruce brood in the dark.”

Cass, normally the least likely to engage in such activities, simply tilted her head with a curious look that might have been interpreted as a quiet agreement. She might not speak often, but Cass had developed a taste for subtle chaos.

Jason cracked his knuckles with a smirk. “Sounds like a good way to pass the time. And besides, I’m bored.”

Danny, floating into the room with a glow of mild suspicion, was not as oblivious as they might have hoped. “You guys aren’t planning anything, are you?”

Dick waved a hand dismissively. “Us? Plan something? Come on, Danny, we’re innocent.”

Danny gave him a deadpan stare. “That’s literally the opposite of what you are.”

The challenge was set, and everyone knew it. But Danny, being the ghostly trickster he was, didn’t wait to be pranked first. He struck with precision.

---

The first inkling that things were amiss came when the Batmobiles began moving on their own. Jason was the first to notice, his usual vehicle—a sleek, red tank of a motorcycle—had rolled up to him as if it were a loyal dog wanting to go for a walk.

“Alright, who’s messing with my ride?” Jason demanded, but the vehicle simply honked twice in response, the sound oddly cheerful.

“It’s not me!” Tim called from across the cave, where his own ride had begun circling him like a shark. “I swear, I’m not touching anything!”

Danny floated nearby, feigning innocence with an expression that screamed, I totally did this. “You sure your cars aren’t just excited to see you?”

Jason narrowed his eyes. “This is war, ghost boy.”

---

The Batcave, typically a place of stoic professionalism, had devolved into a battleground of pranks. Stephanie had rigged Danny’s usual hangout spot with a pop-up scarecrow (it looked suspiciously like Scarecrow, but with a clown wig) that would jump out at him whenever he tried to sit down.

The trap backfired spectacularly when Danny phased through the seat, sending the scarecrow careening into Cass, who simply caught it midair with one hand and set it down gently. Without saying a word, she gave Stephanie a look that said, ‘Nice try, but no.’

“Okay, point to Danny,” Stephanie conceded, wiping away tears of laughter.

In retaliation, Danny decided to step up his game. The next morning, Alfred calmly entered the Batcave with a tray of tea, his hair glowing an eternal green. Not a word about the change, not even a glance in the mirror—Alfred was far too professional for that.

Bruce, however, did notice. “Alfred, did you do something... different with your hair?”

Alfred, ever unflappable, set down the tea tray. “Just trying out a new look, Master Wayne. I believe it’s quite... refreshing.”

Bruce nodded slowly, not entirely sure if Alfred was joking. “It’s very... unique.”

Danny had to leave the room, barely containing his laughter. The dry humor had struck a chord, even with the ghost kid.

---

As the prank war escalated, it became harder to tell who was pranking who. Jason found his helmet filled with ectoplasm, while Tim’s gadgets began mysteriously glitching out, causing them to display random memes whenever he tried to access files.

Stephanie set up a system of water balloons throughout the cave, each strategically placed to drench whoever activated the trap. The grand finale was a large balloon precariously perched above the entrance, ready to douse the first unlucky victim.

Unfortunately for Damian, who had been staunchly standing next to Bruce to avoid any involvement in the chaos, his loyalty did not save him.

“I am not a part of this, Father,” Damian declared, stepping slightly closer to Bruce.

A soft ‘click’ echoed in the cave, followed by a loud splash as the massive water balloon above exploded, soaking Damian from head to toe.

Bruce sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Damian, I thought you said you weren’t part of this.”

“I am not!” Damian insisted, dripping onto the Batcave floor. He glared at the ceiling as if it had personally offended him. “This was not intended for me.”

Danny appeared next to him, intangible and dry. “I guess the water balloon had other plans.”

Jason, Tim, Stephanie, and Dick burst into laughter, while Cass allowed herself a rare smile. Even Bruce couldn’t hold back the faintest twitch of his lips.

---

The chaos continued throughout the day, culminating in a final showdown where Danny—now fully embracing his role as master prankster—made every Bat-Suit in the Batcave walk out of their cases and perform the ‘Michael Jackson’s Thriller’ dance.

Bruce had walked in just in time to see his most serious suit do the moonwalk.

“That’s it,” Bruce declared, finally done with the madness. “No more pranks in the Batcave.”

But as he said it, his own suit’s visor flipped up to reveal a pair of glowing green eyes that winked at him before going dark.

Danny’s laugh echoed through the cave. “You’re gonna have to catch me first, Bats!”

Bruce sighed again, mentally preparing himself for the next round. It seemed that in the Batcave, chaos would always have a ghostly signature.

[zpendragon]

DC X DP inspired by @thebubblesareevil post: Retired Hero Danny - March 1st

ring ring

The sound of a phone could be heard over the low music and sound of tinkering. The man looked up at the clock, seeing that it was 5 minutes to close he sighed as he reached for the phone.

"Danny’s dead device depot: you kill it I fix it, how can I help you today."

“My name is Diana of Themyscira. I was told you could help….we have run out of options.”

“What seems to be the problem?”

“A new god by the name of Darkseid intend to bring our world to ruin. His army is without end and we cannot hold them back much longer”

“Hmmmm sounds like a tough job” tinkering is heard in the background “ tell you what, get me some of those cookies like yer mom makes. The nutty ones and we’ve got a deal”

“Kourabiedes? That’s it? But-“

“No buts, you just get those started while I take care of this creep. I should be done by the time they cool down.”

Danny hung up the phone and stood into a stretch. His gaze landed on three items hanging on the wall. Three clubs with glowing green letters were mounted in a row. 'Fenton Anti-Creep Stick - Small, Fenton Anti-Creep Stick - Medium' and 'Fenton Anti-Creep Stick - Large'.

"Hmm, I think medium should do… I mean it's just a god. No use going overboard." He grabbed the medium sized club, roughly 6 feet long and a foot across at the head. Taking a few practice swing to loosen up he nodded to himself. "Perfect." He raised his free hand and before him appeared a glowing green portal. Danny leaned the club over his shoulder, he walked though whistling a jaunty toon to himself."

Danny arrived on Apokolips, the home of Darkseid. Looking around he could see the army Diana had mentioned. He'd seen better, but if he wanted to get back for the cookies, he needed to get started. Danny infused his creep stick with a bit of his ectoplasm and swung in a lazy arc in front of him. A massive wave of green swept out before him swallowing everything in sight leaving huge swathes of land bare. No enemies remained in front of him. Lifting into the air, Danny flew towards the "strongest" energy on the planet. He made his way to a large fortress surrounded by large pools of lava the put off smoke that choked the air with an acrid scent. The fortress looked like it was bought straight out of villain's quarterly.

Sigh "No imagination." Danny strode towards the large doors on the front of the fortress. Each step saw ice spreading in every direction, freezing the lava and providing a path to the door.

BOOOM Danny's foot struck the door throwing it forward, ripping it from the door frame and embedding it in the wall to the left of the large figure on the throne. Danny stood in the doorway eyeing the dark figure.

"I hear you're the creep giving my niece problems." Hefting the club off his shoulder he continued " I have just the thing for creeps like you… although looking at you now, maybe the medium is a bit much for this."

Darkseid stood from his throne shaking with rage. "You shouldn't have come here. Your death with not be gentle." he said with a glower.

snicker "Oh man, not only are you too late for that threat, but how unoriginal can you get? 'YoUr DeAtH WiLl NoT bE gEnTlE'. Let's get this over with, I have cookies waiting for me."

Dark red beams flashed from Darkseid's eyes towards Danny, who knocked them to the side with a swing from his club. "That it? Boxy hits harder than that." Danny leapt forward swinging the anti-creep stick to strike him on the left side of his head. Darkseid's head separated from his shoulders slamming into the wall of the throne room. His body crumpled to the floor.

"Well that was disappointing…" Danny made a grasping motion and Darkseid's soul appeared before him held in place. His eyes wide in fear he asked "Who are you?"

"Oh, I run an electronic repair store." Danny replied with his best customer service smile. "You were my last house call of the day. Well, it was nice to meet you Mr. Dick-seid." With a squeeze of his hand, Danny crushed Darkseid's soul, ending him for good.

"I hope Diana bakes as good as her mother!" he said as he opened another portal leaving the entire planet a barren, frozen ball of ice.

[dollyolo]

MY FAVORITE FICS

(I want to keep all the fics I've read and enjoyed in one place in case I return to them. If you see your fic here and want it removed, please let me know and I'll remove it as soon as possible!)

FICS*

DC UNIVERSE

Jason Todd x reader

Don't go disappearing on me again

savior

you hold me tight without hurting me

Soft Jason

love this author thank you for blessing me with Jason

At least I'm not alone at wake

Call me your fool (I only wanna be with you)

safe haven

Restroom attendant

In your hands

Moonlight And Intentional Mistakes fear

Biomimicry, anyone?

too sate

the blood in your vain it only takes one

please come home

it only takes one

Pre-Noon Saturdays.

fear

in your hands

fluff

soft

the words of your body

and on and on, i'll be by your side pt1 &2

DICK GRAYSON x Reader

the blue of your eyes, the blue of the sky

dont miss me

you with the dark curls, you with the watercolor eyes

BRUCE WAYNE x reader

warm

walk me home

a world alone

shadows in the storm

Good Night (Sweet Dreams)

reverie

ferrari

sugar on the rim

fright

I LOVE THIS WRITE PLEASE CHECK THEM OUT

away away away

again

JUJUTSU KAISEN

satoru gojo x reader

no garden can bloom without the sun can't sleep

not so invisible string

to lose a lonely heart

Intrinsic Warmth

supersonic together

| blinked and suddenly, I had a Valentine

TOJI FUSHIGURO

• weeping, craving open heart

• soft Toji

• my duty to you

• unkept secret

• only fools

• please please, please

soul mates

SUGURU GETO

casual

summer stress

delicate

ashes

KENTO NANAMI

safe and sound

lay your love on me

unrequited love

SUKUNA RYOMEN

I'm gonna get you

arts and crafts

love and company

CHOSO KAMO

sweet tooth

I wish

FRANK CASTLE

• favorite place

The Bodyguard series

sit around and miss you

two am automatic

TASK FORCE 141

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader

I hear you like magic? I've got a wand and a rabbit! pt1 &2

Grimm Reaper

chest flexing

'cause now I'm scared to love the thought of you the way you did with me

KEEGAN P RUSS

calling it love but this isnt falling

[dc-gotham-instincts-wild]

Four Days, Tim? Again? Really? (DC Batfam Fic)

(Summary: Tim's not sleeping. His brothers intervene.) ---

Tim opened the fridge with the practiced ease of someone who had long since memorized the layout of his kitchen. He reached for an energy drink—something to power him through the inevitable late-night work he’d be buried under soon enough.

"Hey Timmers," Jason called from the doorway, his voice light, but with that familiar edge of mischief.

Tim, without turning around, responded in his usual dry tone. "Hy J'sin."

Jason’s footsteps clicked closer, his eyes narrowed "What's the date and time right now?"

Tim squinted at the fridge’s little clock. "Mmm... last I checked, it was January 5, half-past ten PM," he muttered, taking the drink out and twisting off the cap.

Jaso paused, eyes widening, before he raised an eyebrow, stepping closer, his eyes glinting with the kind of amusement that usually spelled trouble. "Baby bird. Today's January 9."

The moment Jason said it, Tim froze, hand still gripping the half-empty energy drink can like a lifeline. His brain stuttered, calculating furiously. January 9. Four days. Four days or more of no sleep for, and—oh no, Dick was yelling.

"Get him!"

Tim's survival instincts kicked in.

Dropping the can, he spun on his heel and bolted, barely ducking the net Damian flung at him (Where did he get that?). The mesh hit the fridge with a clang and slid down uselessly.

"You're going to pay for that!" Alfred's voice rang out faintly from the next room, but it was already too late for warnings.

"Tim, stop running and go to bed!" Dick yelled as he vaulted over the counter.

"Absolutely not! I still have work!" Tim shouted back, skidding around the corner and making a beeline for the staircase. He didn't even know where he was going—he just knew he couldn't let them catch him.

Jason, however, had the predatory instincts of a bloodhound. He cut off Tim’s escape route by vaulting over the banister and landing squarely in front of the staircase.

Tim barely managed to skid to a halt.

"Whoa, hey, let's talk this out—" Tim started, but Jason’s smirk was already in place.

"Four days, Replacement. Four days -or maybe more- you’ve been up without a single nap. You think you're getting out of this?"

Jason lunged, but Tim, used to escaping his big brothers, ducked under his arms and bolted back toward the kitchen.

“DRAKE!” Damian yelled, already giving chase again.

Tim glanced over his shoulder and regretted it immediately. Damian had discarded the net and was brandishing a bola instead.

“Why do you even have that?!” Tim screeched, diving behind the couch.

“For moments like this, obviously!”

Duke walked in, and frowned. He caught Alfred's look and quickly locked the doors and windows leading outside. Then he joined the chase. With his phone camera.

“Guys, c’mon, it’s not that big a deal!” Tim yelled, already scrambling toward the hallway.

“Not a big deal?” Dick’s voice was closer now. “Tim, you passed out standing twice last month! This intervention is happening whether you like it or not!”

Tim didn’t have time to argue before Jason caught grabbed him by the back of his hoodie and hauled him into the air. He kicked his legs uselessly, trying to wiggle free.

“Jason! C’mon! Let’s be reasonable here—”

Jason’s laugh was dark and smug. “You’ve been running on caffeine and spite for four days or more, and now it’s time for your crash. Literally.”

“Put me down!” Tim shrieked, flailing like a cat being carried to the bathtub.

“Oh, I’ll put you down,” Jason said, unbothered. “Right into bed.”

Tim twisted to look at Damian, who had stopped at Jason’s side, smugly crossing his arms. “Damian, help me!”

“Tt. I am helping. I’m ensuring you stop disgracing yourself with this pathetic self-neglect.”

Duke caught up and shook his head. "I'm with Damian and Jason on this one. Sorry, Tim."

Dick appeared a second later, out of breath but victorious. “We’ve got him. Let’s move.”

“Guys,” Tim pleaded, as Jason threw him over one shoulder like a sack of potatoes. “C’mon, I have stuff to do! You don’t understand—”

“Oh, we understand,” Dick interrupted, cutting him off. “You’re gonna take a nap, and then we’ll talk about what’s so important it was worth shaving years off your lifespan.”

Tim groaned as Jason carried him up the stairs, Duke, Damian and Dick trailing behind. He knew there was no getting out of this.

“Traitors, all of you,” Tim muttered.

Jason snorted. “You’ll thank us after a twelve-hour nap, Timmers.”

As Jason dumped him unceremoniously onto his bed and Dick practically tucked him in like a disapproving mother hen (Well, more like a worried big brother), Tim realized there was no escape.

Damian stood at the foot of the bed, smug and victorious. Duke stacked up the case files on the desk and kicked the files on the bed off the bed.

The last thing Tim saw before his exhaustion overtook him was Jason taping a sticky note to his nightstand.

When he woke hours later, bleary-eyed but undeniably well-rested, he spotted the note.

"Sleep or die, Replacement. Love, your idiot brothers.

And next time, we're gonna tell Dad and have him catch you. And don't we all know that the big Bat can catch a Robin."